Star Singer
by Pretty Much A Big Deal
Summary: After months of no contact, Castiel appears from nowhere asking the Winchesters to find some odd and powerful rare species called the Star Singers; the only way he believes he can stop the war in heaven. Will she comply? Will Sam and Dean be able to befriend her? OCxDean 6th Season.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I do not own Supernatural or the rights to any of its characters. This is my first fan fiction in a while, so hope it's ok! **

The mans long black winter coat ruffled in the wind, the ends flicking like the shoreline as he ran through the blackened night. His coal black hair slicked back from the harsh winds he was so desperately fighting against, small leafs and twigs fruitlessly trying to cling to their new found, rumpled home.

He was running for his life; the pale mood seemed to illuminate his skin like a beacon as the woods foliage snapped painfully loud beneath his feet. He could hear himself with excellent quality, he knew he was being loud, if he had a damned heart beat it would probably liken to bombs dropping at this very moment; but he was far beyond secrecy and hiding, he was no longer the hunter, he was the hunted.

He'd supposed he had sort of deserved it, snatching young girls from their beds, only to molest and drain them. His orders were clear, he was to help maintain the race, but when he saw their unshed tears praying for mercy, he lost control of his desire. They had it coming either way, the way they danced in those filthy clubs, always curving their bodies towards him, short skirts and low cut tops, he remembered when humanity had class! Well, almost. He'd loved the pretty ones, the innocent looking yet obviously oh so experienced ones. He'd loved tearing his talons into their sweet, heated flesh; and they had loved him, for the most part. At least, when he was the mysterious, handsome stranger, not so much the brutal rapist, but we can't have it all.

Then she came into his life, so pale he was astounded to hear a strong heart beat. The way she'd moved with the music was like liquid, not promiscuous, it was almost as if she was the music. Electricity flowed through the air and his long since useless veins were pumped with desire. She wasn't his usual type, oh no. She was exotic, strange and held herself with such power, even the Gods would be jealous. Now his desire to claim that power for his own had destroyed him.

If he needed to breathe, he was sure he wouldn't be able to run for as long and as far as he had. Surely this creature was not of this world, even his own supernatural strengths were running dry. He needed to rest, he needed to feed, he needed to live!

Slowly his pace became less frequent, until eventually he came to a complete stop. Hopefully, the trees would shade him, if only for a moment. Arching his neck towards the moon, he wondered if the Holy were really so evil to sick this indescribable monster even on his undead ass.

"What's the matter, darling?" Her voice was like velvet, wrapping around his form and echoing throughout his existence. Quickly he turned towards the speaker, her form was shrouded by the night, but one thing stood clear. Those ice blue orbs, so light they could be confused for the moon itself, piercing directly through his body, his mind, and if he hadn't sold his soul to the devil so very long ago, they would have burned it to ashes.

"I thought you LIKED the pretty ones!" Thin, pale hands moved with impossible speed, long black nails dug into his skull and a resounding 'snap!' scared away the innocent woodland creatures.

Pearly white fangs peaked through her luscious rose painted lips as she grinned down at the decapitated body.

"Whoops."


	2. Chapter 2

The Impala's wheels crunched the tarmac as Dean and Sam Winchester pulled up to the local morgue in Old Town, Wichita. Suits washed and on, they walked to the boot of the car in unison and starting shifting through their collection of fake official I.D's.

"So male in his late twenties found decapitated in the woods, what makes this so special?" Sam asked, securing his badge and fake business cards within his jacket pocket.

"Bobby pulled up some intel and apparently they believe the dudes head was ripped off his body by force." Dean replied, fastening his favourite gun into his waist holster.

"Wow, must have been one hell of a party."

"You're telling me. Come on, let's check this poor bastard out." Slamming the boot shut, the two brothers went into their standard FBI mode. After some flirting with the secretly a la Dean, and some acting skills from Sam, they stood alone in front of the draw holding the body of their supposed victim.

As the pressure lock was opened, Sam and Dean glanced at each other, always knowing to expect anything. As the body came sliding out on his tray, head placed in a separate bag above its shoulders, the boys got to work.

After examining the neck wound, Sam rolled the head from its bag, murmuring a quiet "gross." Using a pen from the side desk, he slowly pried the victims mouth open, first inspecting the tongue, then the gums.

"Hey Dean, I don't think we have a normal victim on our hands here." Slowly Sam applied pressure to the upper gum and two fangs slid out of the unusual, almost invisible holes. "Think it was a hunter?"

"A hunter that rips off vamps heads like this? Doubt it, I don't think it's even humanly possibly to use such force."

"It's not." Came the chilling, monotonous voice of Castiel, causing both brothers to jump and spin around to the corner of the room where he stood in all his glory.

"Damnit Cas! What have I told you about sneaking in like that! Around dead bodies too! Fuck!" Dean all but shouted, placing the scalpel on the tray and removing his gloves, stepping away from the body.

"Wait, what do you mean? This wasn't done by a human?" Sam asked, removing his own gloves and standing by Dean in the middle of the room. Castiel slowly moved closer to the body, head tilted in fascination.

"No, this isn't possible for a human. This vampire comes from very far back, ancient almost. A human could never possibly kill it with such ease." Castiel jabbed at the head slightly, watching with curious eyes as it rolled back and forth.

"Ok… So wait, we don't see you for what? 2 months? Then all of a sudden you turn up out of nowhere for some old vamp case? What's the deal, Cas?" Dean huffed as he placed his hands in his pockets. They'd tried contacting numerous times to find out what was going on in Heaven after Cas constantly ranting about some civil war whenever he was about, but he never replied. Why show up now?

"I need to ask a favour of you both, and I believe this case is connected to it."

"What? You can't reply to us for months then start asking for favours?"

"I'm aware I haven't been here much, but the war is still raging in Heaven and I must partake in it to keep order. That's why I'm here now; I believe this particular case you're on is in direct contact with someone I need you to find."

"So now we're on some wild goose chase for some unknown person? Brilliant!"?

"Dean, wait, let him explain. Is the person we're looking for the one who did this?" Sam placed his hand on Dean's shoulder to calm him down, he knew he'd almost felt betrayed by his angelic friend every time he refused to reply to their calls. Dean huffed again in acceptance.

"I believe so, yes. Her name is Serenity, and she isn't like any kind of creature you've encountered before. She's a rare, almost extinct species that is governed neither by Heaven or Hell; but she does have the power to stop the war in Heaven."

"So if this weird thing can stop the war, why hasn't she?" Dean asked as he approached the body again, sliding it back into its allotted slot and closing the door.

"Because no one can ask. Her species is called Star Singers; she's the last of the kind. They basically possess power that angels deem blasphemous and demons are terrified of; the powers of the Gods."

"Then why are you asking her to stop the war if she's 'blasphemous'?"

"Times have changed, I no longer perceive humans as the same hairless apes I once did, so I must accept that Star Singers have the ability to help us."

"Brilliant. Where are we suppose to even find this chick anyway? Where do we start looking? We don't even know what she looks like!"

"Here" Castiel pulled out a plain brown folder and opened it to reveal files. "I've been tracking her movements, but I can't approach her. She isn't exactly… Friendly towards Gods workers."

"Why not?" Leaning against the table placed in the centre of the room, Sam began flicking through the files.

"Both Heaven and Hell fear her and her power, so shamefully, exiled her and attempted to destroy her."

"So you both hate some chick because she's crazy powerful so you decide to kill her? Surely you must have known that wouldn't work."

"Yes, but like I said, we were afraid, we didn't know what to do and our father wasn't present to guide us, we did what we thought best."

"Yeah, and got your ass kicked." Dean snatched the files from Sam and started roughly flicking through the pages. "There's no description or pictures, how are we suppose to know her when we see her?"

Castiel reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph. In it was a young woman, probably in her early to mid twenties, wearing leather trousers and a black tank top, arm placed on her hip as she stared down at the camera with a smirk on her face. She had an array of tattoos lacing her arms and her hair was a fiery red colour, eyes almost white but on second glance, could be seen as an icy blue.

"Woah, babe." Dean muttered as he took in the picture. The way she held herself he could tell she was powerful. 'Well this will be difficult' Dean thought. Snatching the picture off of him, Sam took a quick glance and placed it into the files he retrieved back from Dean, closing them.

"So when we find her, what do you want us to do? Gank her?" Sam asked, tapping the files together on the desk and slipping them under his arm.

"No, befriend her, ask for her help. She has a soft spot for humans so she'll probably trust you."

"Probably?"

"Like I said, befriend her."

Sam and Dean mulled it over in their heads, glancing at each other and raising their eyebrows sceptically. Was this a good idea? Did they even have a choice?

"So hey, why is she called a Star Singer anyway?"

And just like that, Castiel was gone.

"Damnit Cas!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks to all the people reading/ following this! Really appreciated! **

A slow and eerie creak of the rusted swing set swaying back and forth in the late night winds could be heard all throughout the small village; the crunch of boots against slightly frosted twigs hidden beneath the swings dedicated solo.

The blood was seeping, seeping through the walls as the floor burned. It was all burning, slowly but surely. Flaking away into an ashen grey cloud in the sky. What was once such a peaceful village seemed to just drift away.

She couldn't hear the flames, all she could hear was the swing set, the crunch of the boots as they approached. Then, as the footsteps became louder, the wind began to sing.

"Ladybug, ladybug fly away home,

Your house is on fire,

Your children will burn."

Her snow white hair twisted and turned against her limbs and white nightdress as she span around, searching for the source of the childlike voices.

"Except for the little one whose name is Ann,

Who hid away in a frying pan!"

She attempted to scream, but her breath was stolen from her the second it left her mouth; so she ran. Her eyes teared up from the ashes flying around her as the buildings slowly disintegrated. All but one building was on fire; an old victorian house, it stood tall and terrifying amongst the old fashioned village. She didn't know why, but the increasing sound of the footsteps sent sharp chills down her spine; fear.

Bursting through the front door, she slammed it behind her. Inside the house seemed so pleasant, warmly lit with red velvet curtains, mahogany floorboard and plush black armchairs surrounding a beautifully lit fire place. She almost felt safe, almost. The half empty glass of wine on the small side table brought back that sense of fear. She stood back, pressing herself against the wall as her heart started to race again. A wet, slimy sensation came from her forehead, raising her hand she gently touched it and brought her hand back to look. Blood, familiar blood.

Glancing upwards, she saw a motherly woman, perhaps in her 40's, long chestnut hair and blue eyes so wide with fright. Then she could hear it again, the screams. The blood poured down the walls as the ceiling set alight, as the door began to rattle and fear peaked. This was her home, this was her coffin!

Lurching down the stairs in fright, she tumbled into the basement as the flames engulfed the once beautiful home, licking at her back and arms as they chased her down the stairs. Landing on her hands and knees, a lone sob escaped her finally as a chuckle vibrated throughout the room. Snapping her gaze to the centre, she saw the familiar and horrifying sight of a metal pentagram hanging over a pit of coals.

"You can't escape, Serenity." A male voice echoed through her very bones as yellow eyes stared into her soul, slowly, the screams and cries of the villagers finally came back into focus.

"Monster!" "Freak!" "Witch! Kill her!" "She must be punished for her inhumanity!" "You housed this whore and now we all suffer!" "Burn her!" "Burn her!" "Burn her!"

"NO!"

A mop of lilac hair bolted from the cheap motel bed as Serenity panted and wiped away the sweat on her brow. She glanced at the clock that read in painfully bright green letters '5:38 AM'.

"Fuck."

Slumping back onto the bed, she stared at the ceiling. That night had happened over a hundred years ago now yet it still seemed to haunt her. Never could she decide what was worse on this planet; the demons or the humans. They're all been so insistent that she was evil because of her unnatural white hair and her odd mannerisms that they hadn't noticed their beloved mayor's eyes take on the colour of a haunted waxing moon. Times had changed since then, surely, but it didn't make the pain of losing her loved ones to the irrational fear humanity possessed any easier. Poor Beth didn't know anything, she had merely taken what she thought was an unusual but unfortunate orphan in her time of need, she'd been the mother she'd never had. She'd been hiding ever since that night, ever since the 'Lord' had transported her from the hell on earth to safety.

'_Bigoted jerk hasn't helped since, whilst I've been cleaning up his messes to protect his precious humans._'

She damn well knew what that angel Castiel wanted from her as well, a civil war in heaven? Fat chance of getting her to help, those angels weren't much better than the demons she ganked in her opinion. Spending hundreds of years weakening her species, one by one, until eventually they gave up. They thought they were winning but the truth was, they all just got too tired and laid themselves to rest. She didn't think it was a bad idea at this point; get close to anyone and they kill them to try and play with your head, so you have to spend eternity alone. She had a few distant friends in recent years but they all had to pass her subconscious self defence tests, and what fun was that? She knew being different was always dangerous, after the amount of time she'd been around she'd be moronic not to, but she was lonely. That's the best way to kill a star singer, her father said. Loneliness.

"Real positive morning thinking there, Sere. Start the day with sunshine and rainbows, huh?" Serenity grumbled as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, scratching her head as she approached the bathroom.

"Looks like it's going to be another beautiful day."

"This SUCKS!" Dean slammed his hands on the steering wheel as they drove to the next dead end this 'Serenity' chick had left for them to chase.

"Dean, calm down. Cas knows what he's doing and if he thinks this girl can help then she can help. We do kind of owe him." Sam tapped his fingers nervously against this kneecap. Dean had been getting more and more restless the longer they spent chasing this mystery woman and not working a proper job.

"Damnit Sam, we've been chasing this chick for MONTHS! As far as we've discovered she's like a fricking ghost! 'Sept a ghost would be easier to track! How far are we on the list anyway?" Dean huffed. The 'research' Cas had given them was basically a list of different obscure locations a woman that MIGHT fit the profile of who they were looking for had been.

"We're about 15 more away from the end of the list." Sam sighed, having memorised the list a thousand times over in the stuffy car ride from the previous state.

"She's in South Dakota." Castiel appeared suddenly in the back seat, staring out onto the road as Dean swerved the car, nearly hitting an oncoming truck.

"Jesus Cas!" - "Sound Dakota? Are you sure?"

"Positive. There were unusual power fluctuations there early this morning. She'll be at this address." Castiel passed a scrap of paper on to Sam and disappeared again as Dean attempted to regain his composure.

"This one better be right because I'm really starting to lose my cool here!" Dean all but shouted as he turned off of the freeway, heading to their new destination.

"He said he was positive, come on, the sooner we do this the sooner we can get back to normal.


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Supernatural, nor do I own any rights to "I Found A Reason" by Cat Power. **

Her hips swung side to side as she sauntered down the hotel corridor; the crisp, fresh blue carpet almost crunching under her leather boots.

The air around her crackled with electricity, she knew full well that the angel of Thursday was watching her once again.

_It's a shame, really. I do ever so enjoy frightening Castiel; he really can't take a joke. _

The Winchesters strode down the hallway, cool and collected on the surface, but their brief eye contact spoke volumes of how unsure of the whole situation they were. Arguing most, if not all, of the way, Sam valiantly standing up for Castiel as Dean moped, they both agreed that they couldn't get out of this heaven-sent mission, but Dean certainly didn't like it. Something about this whole situation seemed off, especially Cas and his description of the war in heaven. He never quite met their eyes anymore, almost as if he was doing something wrong.

"Don't be crazy." Sam had scoffed "it's Cas, think of how many times he's saved both of our asses. If he was having any problems he'd tell us."

But Dean knew Cas better than Sam did, and he definitely knew something was up. So as they strolled down the hotel hallway, out of place in its gold plated extravagance in their plaid shirts and beaten up army surplus jackets, Dean felt something was entirely wrong with this whole situation.

"Hey." Sam whispered. "Do you hear that?"

Listening intently, the sound was indistinguishable at first; the sound of birds? Perhaps the rattling of an air vent. The soft humming of a radiator? No, the more the brothers listened, the more they heard.

A soft humming.

"Oh I do believe in all the things you see, what comes is better than what came before."

An unsteady step forward and Dean suddenly felt like he was floating.

"You better come, come, come, come to me. Better come, come, come, come to me. Better run, run, run, run to me. Better come."

His vision blurred as the song floated and caressed his ear drums. Visions of fields filled with pale blue flowers and laughing children filled his mind, of rivers and clear skies.

"Oh I do believe in all the things you see, what comes is better than what came before. And you better run, run, run, run to me. Better run, run, run, run to me. Better come, come, come, come to me, better run…"

As piano notes softly drifted through the air, the Winchester's nostrils were assaulted with the smell of burning. The flowers withered and died as the children turned to ash, the river replaced with lava as the sky began to fall. As quickly as it started, it ended. Both men stood in the hallway suddenly out of breath and leaning on each other for support.

"What the heck was that?!" Dean mumbled as he pushed Sam off him. The vision visibly had shaken both of them. Sharing another look of deep concern, the boys stumbled up the remainder of the hallway until they reached room 337, the numbers embossed on the crystal white door in gold. Dean rattled the door handle to see if it was open after several knocks went unanswered. Upon entry, both Winchesters stood in front of a chair strategically placed in front of the door. A note lay on its plush red cushioning.

_"Incase you didn't get that. Leave. Me. Alone." _

3 hours away Serenity leaned back in the chair by the window of her hotel room, smirking over a cup of coffee. While yes, there were very pressing matters at hand, it certainly didn't mean she had to take Gods minion seriously, now did it?


End file.
